


Two sparks, one body

by Anonmemeproject



Series: Transformers Anon Kink Meme - non sticky fills [7]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonmemeproject/pseuds/Anonmemeproject
Summary: Two sparks, one bodyBy AnonymousPublished August 13 2009And there went another data pad, crushed by his forceful grip, the fifth one today. Primus if he ordered another new stack for his office Prowl would reprimand him with a reminder of their resource shortage.His optics started fritzing then, off and reonling randomly, whenever it was just plain inconvenient. It still shouldn't have been enough to grate upon his nerves though...but oddly enough...it was."Cut it out right now!" He snapped at his empty office, voice booming around the enclosed room. A cackle answered him, echoing around his CPU.#Why should I?# The disembodied voice only he could hear huffed. Oh he knew what the voice said would shut it up...a body... But giving it an actual, substantial body so that it could torment him further? No thank you, oh so NOT much!
Relationships: Optimus Prime/?
Series: Transformers Anon Kink Meme - non sticky fills [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542844
Kudos: 4





	Two sparks, one body

**Author's Note:**

> This story is Incomplete 
> 
> Link: https://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/1174.html?thread=516758#t516758  
Authors notes It's on the old kink meme, page 36 (http://community.livejournal.com/tf2007fun/506446.html?page=36#comments) and it requested...I had no chance but to comply! More will follow as soon as I've written it, so this is a slight teaser.   
I sure hope the other writeranon that spoke up contemplating to take the prompt will still take it anyway!

Breems later he was convinced that it was possible to rip out his own CPU just to stop going insane. The voice hadn't shut up since beginning to talk to him again. Last night he had apparently insulted it so badly that it had declared it wouldn't be talking to him ever again...see how true it kept to it's promises! What the pit did it expect him to do if he knew he wouldn't be left alone either way? One mad leader would be better than two that continuously contradicted each other...right?

Slamming down the last report for the day he headed out of his office quickly in a valiant attempt to escape his newest concerned doctor. Not that Perceptor wasn't proficient in medical regards. The scientist merely got sidetracked very easily and could talk about things that should be too complicated for any processor, but apparently only went over one head, his own. Most disconcerting was the fact that the voice in his head answered to inquiries and suggestions the microscope would make as if they were having a tea party. Not that they could have a tea party over anything when one of them was stuck in his head, but it still felt like it.

Momentously thankful that Primus had smiled upon him this cycle and granted him to reach his quarters on his own, Optimus typed in the security code and hid from prying optics. However, he could not hide from the voice.

#Yuck, you see this is precisely why you're no fun to be around. Your quarters are just so...bland.# Had he imagined it or had there actually been a slight reprieve in the incessant grumbling of the voice? No, there had definitely been a little pause. Maybe he could get rid of it by looking around his quarters?

Taking an interest in the couch before his video screen he made a mental description of it to himself only to end up yawning loudly. Since when did mechs yawn? Yawning wasn't even known on Cybertron! Now it was definite...Optimus Prime, bearer of the matrix once more, leader of the autobots once more, responsible for an entire faction once more

#Oh do shut up you self important glitch.# was going insane. He was going to end up dribbling fluids anywhere he went, sputtering unintellegible strings of words

#As if you aren't already.# and become a burden to his faction.

#Well, fatty, maybe a diet is in order?#

"I...hate...you." The Prime calmly told the couch in his quarters and blasted the thing.

A knock at his door and a concerned voice could be heard a klick later. The mumbling argument died down and Perceptor spoke up.

"Optimus would you still be functioning properly? If so would you deign to open your door please? I still do not know the latest medical supreme override for it. For some reason unknown to me as of yet a certain security director does apparently not trust me with it." The cultured voice of the head scientist travelled into his quarters. It was then the Prime realized that it had not been the wisest decision to blast his couch. Of course someone would have heard the noise the blast caused. By now the couch was nothing more than a smoking pile of smithereens on the floor of his quarters.

#You going to clean that up anytime soon?#

"No." He snapped and the sudden silence from beyond the door leading into his quarters was deafening.

"Well, then maybe you should consider opening the door so that I might see what is amiss. Which would ultimately enable me to remedy the fact." Was he hearing things now or did the microscope actually sound a little annoyed? What had he done to annoy him? Maybe talking to voices in your CPU aloud wasn't so good after all. But if he didn't talk to it aloud it wouldn't even listen to him.

#Talking to yourself now are we?# The slightly mad cackle haunted him again and he wanted nothing more than to hide from himself.

Reluctantly he sent the code to open his door and a slight hiss preceeded Perceptors presence. Somehow he did look a little stunned to see him standing in the middle of his quarters, blaster in hand and pointed at...well the ashes of his furniture.

"I am quite certain that you could have asked for a replacement if you wanted one so desperately." The scientist commented and then checked him over, gently removing his blaster from his hand.

"It wasn't that." Optimus mumbled, embarrassed by the reprimand. Of course he would have gotten a replacement by filing a notice for it, but up until now, after he had destroyed it, he hadn't even known he would need one.

Being lead to the med bay by someone other than Ironhide felt weird, encountering nobody in med bay and being treated by Perceptor was...well, not normal, but not unusual either. Yet he kept glancing at the main office door, expecting it to cycle open and admit a raving CMO any astrosecond now. Just because he was the Prime did not mean that he wouldn't be snarked at by Ratchet for injuring himself. Thing was...there was no more Ratchet at the Ark. Or anywhere else he knew of.

"Hmmm....your systems appear to be just fine. No anomalies the medical scanners could detect. Would you happen to have a guess as to what might be at fault?" Perceptor just asked straight out at the end. Well, as straight as his questions ever became.

#Oh, nothing much. I'm just slightly mentally instable, because I think that part of myself manifested itself into a separate personality and it now tormenting the rest of my CPU.# A velvety voice suggested and he had already opened his dermaplates before he could cut off his vocalizer. Yet with his mouth now open, he felt compelled to say something, anything...

"Perceptor...what does insanity feel like?"

Undoubtedly the wrong question to ask in his situation, judging by the fact that he had been shipped off to Smokescreen within the breem. The poor recharge deprived datsun took a scan of his entire systems but could find no fault there either. 

“Alright, Prime. So how do we feel this cycle?”

#Like a loon.# If the voice would have had a faceplate, Optimus was certain there would have been a stark raving mad grin splitting it.

“A little unsettled.” He admitted after much contemplation if he should say anything at all, but then again, his men were only trying to help him, so he could at least play along nicely and cooperate. 

#Docile again? We can't have that now do we?#

As if in response to the silent provocation his hands fastened into fists he couldn't undo, no matter how hard he concentrated on it. 

“How so?” His mentalist asked with a meaningful glance at his fists.

“I break stuff without meaning to, like data pads for example, and my optics do funny things when I concentrate too hard.” It was true, utterly true Optimus told himself to eliminate the guilt catching up with his spark.

#Gah!# 

The suddenness of the revolted outburst startled him so badly that he jerked back upright from his partially relaxed position, not sitting ramrod straight in the chair facing the datsun.

“Your gyros appeared to be fine at first scan, but maybe they lack fine tuning. Do you feel restless somehow?” Smokescreen asked, his doorwings hiking up a little with concentration. 

#Restless? Ooooooh...you bet!# 

Something in his chassis definitely didn't feel right at that.

“A little bit maybe?” He phrased it as a question, uncertain of the accurateness of the statement himself.

“Hmm...you haven't attended any battle since your resurrection. Could it be that your systems are merely a little overcharged from too little action? I'd suggest a nice workout on the shooting range or close combat training with the twins. That would certainly take care of any pooling of energy within your circuits.” Was the final verdict of his mental screwdriver. Not that he had a screw loose somewhere within his chassis, but it was a really fitting human term he liked quite a lot. 

#Overcharged? I'll show you overcharged!#

“Probably. I will ask them to have something scheduled within the next six joors.” Optimus volunteered, receiving an affirmative nod in response and a languid gesture hinted that it would be alright to leave now. A few parting words later found him back outside in the hallways of the Ark, free to go wherever he wanted. A little anxious Optimus left the hearing range of the oblivious datsun, most likely he would be going back to recharge now that he had left him to his own devices again. Turning his steps towards his quarters the Prime was surprised to find himself closing in on the rec room. When had he decided to come here again? Peeking inside he spied some of his men still up and about, indulging in a little music and high grade. Not a party as such, just a slow evening coming to an end within the rec room, so he felt confident enough to invade without being a bother. 

Blaster noticed him first and favored him with a nod and a wink. Jazz was next with a jovial shout, his movements appearing a little jerky, which was probably due to a little too much high grade for him. Then again the porsche could become lucid within an astrosecond if necessary and so Optimus felt it unnecessary to reprimand him for a little overindulgence. Halfway through the room and on his way to the energon dispenser he noticed the twins caught up in a card game with Kup, insulting him left, right and center, without being reprimanded for it. Apparently they were playing cuss-until-your-speechless again. It was one of their favorite past times and apart from Ironhide and Ratchet few had ever been able to counter the twins as proudly as Kup was doing just now. Some things just had to stay the same. 

Sauntering over to them he didn't notice the strange sway of his hips until it was too late and Sideswipe was already pointing and giggling like a femme, while Sunstreaker glared at him suspiciously. 

“What's your malfunction kid?” The old 

#Ancient, as in he's practically a walking antique! We should make him into an attraction. There have to be some idiotic squishies that would even pay to see something as old as him. Then again any archeologist would be able to tell you that he is far older than anything else. Judging by his age...what do you guess is older: Him or cosmic rust?#

war veteran asked him sternly and Optimus couldn't help his almost sparkling like grin.

“Nothing much besides a little too much energy in my circuits, because I'm overcharged.” He replied honestly before he could stop himself.

#Loose glossa. Shame on you!# The voice in his head cackled again.

Wide opticed surprise and suspicion was his reward. 

“What? You speechless? Can't I crack a joke in every millenia?” Optimus pouted and was instantly knocked out by a golden yellow fist.

——

If the frontliner had really called 'Frag ya!' to his face he couldn't say for certain, but it was pretty likely that he had. Sunstreaker did possess the audacity to be insubordinate enough to have said so, but Optimus would not charge him for it. HE would rather thank him for putting him out of his misery and into a nice, relaxing recharge. 

Once he had onlined fully though he recycled that thought, for his processor and fuel tanks were burning from what could have only been an unproportional overdosage of high grade. 

His optics weren't much better of and his logic circuitry was already contemplating shutting him down for a second round of recharge. Normally at exactly this stage of system activity his CMO would choose to whack him over the cranial unit with a wrench to get the point across that he was not amused by such thoughtless behaviour. Yet...they hadn't managed to bring his officers back. He couldn't blame Perceptor for not trying his invention a second time, after all how much worse would it have to be for them to get used to themselfes again if Prime himself still felt wonky after being offline for only a few orns. 

#Not that a lack there of would be a dramatical change compared to your regular processor activity.#

This voice!

It was going to offline him, he just knew it! No matter how long it would take, somehow it would manage.

#Nah. I will let you function. For as long as you are useful to me that is.#

"Oh great. Thank you."

"See! I knew he would see it my way!" He heard Sunstreaker defending himself, while pointing an accusing digit at him, which he saw as he onlined his optics. It would not sound promising regarding his sanity if he told him that he hadn't meant him, but a voice inside his CPU. So he would have to find a different reason...hmm, how about thanking the bot that had repaired him? Grapple or Hoist most likely, seeing as First Aid wasn't at the Ark due to an assignment out in the field with the Aerialbots. 

"Not exactly Sunstreaker. I merely chose to be polite and thank the mech that repaired me, even though he neglected to include some painkillers against my pounding processor."

Well...uh...ups? Optimus really hadn't meant to say that last part aloud.

#Why not? If you require painkillers then the easiest way to attain them would be to state your discomfort and resulting need for them. I thought you Autobots operated that way. Compassion and all that crap, remember?#

"I felt that it would be prudent not to drug you beyond comprehensibility of our language, which would have been the result of painkillers strong enough to free your processor from any minor discomfort." The clipped response of Perceptor startled him. Hadn't he been roused from recharge because of Optimus untimely little redecoration accident? The poor bot was working by far too hard to keep him online in such a state of mental decay.

#Speaking only for yourself again are you? Well I shall be glad to inform you that MY mental health is in perfect condition.#

If it hadn't been impossible for a figment of his own imagination to be so vile as to hate himself...he might have believed that it's words were true. Yet, if it's words were true and it was a part of him, didn't that mean that his mental health wasn't as desasterous as he presumed it to be.


End file.
